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“These days, he doesn’t understand me like he used to,” I continue. “He doesn’t realize I want different things for my life. More than partying and wandering and fucking.”
“None of that,” Gus agrees. He draws closer to me, focused on my mouth.
“Well, except for the fucking.” I pull him close too. “I want it the way you do it. Filthy. Mean. Risky.”
“Right now?”
I nod. “I don’t want to think about Jay until the morning. Tonight, I only want to think about you. You and the way you were honest and vulnerable this afternoon.”
Now Gus refuses to look at me. His gaze stays locked on our thighs, our laps, our knees. “You don’t have to encourage me or build me up.”
“Yes I do,” I reply, frowning. “You don’t think our conversation affected me? Gus, I’ve never been more in awe of you than I was today. If anything, hearing you share the things that have hurt you made me want you even more.”
Finally, he looks up, face hopeful.
“I’m obsessed with you,” I say, smiling before I tenderly kiss his forehead. “And I’m glad the feeling is mutual.”
He breathes out, relieved. “Me too.”
“Fuck me, August,” I whisper, stopping myself from making more demands.
Gus presses his forehead against mine. “You ask and I give,” he responds, practically in warning. “Are you sure it’s what you want?”
“Yes.”
With his bravado back in spades, Gus slips out of my arms and rises to his feet. He holds out his hand, motioning for me to take it. Once I do, he guides me to the wall, slowly backing me towards it until the paneling touches my shoulder blades.
“Positive?” he inquires, keeping his voice low.
“Yes,” I insist, just short of getting annoyed and outright begging him to take me.
“Because you still seem upset, honey. Are you trying to get me to fuck your problems away?”
“Yes.” I don’t lie.
A chuckle escapes his lips. “We’re going to talk later,” he murmurs, his hardness pressing against my front with tantalizing pressure. “I’m going to take you dirty, like you asked, but afterwards I’m going to clean you up and you’re going to snuggle up next to me like you always do, and we’re going to talk. Understood?”
My heart patters uncontrollably while my bones melt into a puddle on the floor. Did I create this sensitive monster? He’s everything I’ve ever wanted and more. Considerate, caring—and obscenely sexy. Fuck, I’m so lucky.
I nod vigorously. “Please, August.”
Without warning, he picks me up and spins me around before pinning me to the floor—the fucking floor.
I land hard enough to make my eyes widen, and I briefly wonder if Gus dropped me so carelessly by accident. But the hungry, wicked look in his blue eyes reminds me that Gus Winter probably isn’t prone to accidents.
This is all for me.
Gus positions himself over me. His big body is a cage, boxing me in with the promise of a hard fuck in my near future. His hand weaves between us and hikes up my short hemline before yanking the top of my dress down hard. Seams snap and split, and I should be irate with him for destroying a sixteen-thousand-dollar dress, but I’m too overcome with need.
The top and bottom of my dress are bunched around my waist, leaving all my best parts exposed. My breasts. My bare pussy. My skin tingles with the cool of the Vienna evening, but I’m hot in my own skin. I don’t know how much more of this sinful wind-up I can take.
Breathing heavily, Gus wets his lips with his tongue. The expression on his face is ravenous, and he rakes his gaze over my body, lingering on my breasts before his eyes meet mine and remain there.
“You won’t let me do it,” he challenges lowly. He scoots his knee forward to nudge my legs apart. “Fucking on the floor. A rich princess like you. You’d never.”
“Try me, asshole.”
To my surprise—and delight—he releases a soft chuckle. “I don’t know what I prefer: When you call me an asshole or when you call me Daddy.”
